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If you listen I'll sing you a sweet little song
Of a flower that's now drooped and dead,
Yet dearer to me, yes than all of its mates,
Though each holds aloft its proud head.
Twas given to me by a girl that I know,
Since we've met, faith I've known no repose.
She is dearer by far than the world's brightest star,
And I call her my wild Irish Rose.
My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows.
You may search everywhere, but none can compare with
my wild Irish Rose.
My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows,
And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom
from my wild Irish Rose.
They may sing of their roses, which by other names,
Would smell just as sweetly, they say.
But I know that my Rose would never consent
To have that sweet name taken away.
Her glances are shy when e'er I pass by
The bower where my true love grows,
And my one wish has been that some day I may win
The heart of my wild Irish Rose.
My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows.
You may search everywhere, but none can compare with
my wild Irish Rose.
My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows,
And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom
from my wild Irish Rose.
- Album:
- Head And Heart
- HEAD & HEART
- This New Morning
- Eleven Songs
- Miscellaneous
- The Bottom Line Archive: In Their Own Words, Vol. 1 (Live)
- The Bottom Line Archive Series: In Their Own Words, Vol. 1
- Sunny Sailor Boy
- Bridge of Sorrow
- Rescue Mission
- This New Morning (Bonus Track Version)
- The Man Is Alive
- 2009 Bar/None Records Sampler
- Keeper of the Flame
- Dreams In America
- Salty Heaven
- A Celtic Season: A Windham Hill Collection
- Turf
- Select Sounds 1996
- The Acoustic Motorbike